


Atonement

by Cyberfairie



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberfairie/pseuds/Cyberfairie
Summary: When Bull betrayed the Inquisition and sided with the Qunari Dorian had no reason to remain in the south.  Several years later he’s found new purpose with the Lucerni but as they begin to make actual progress he finds himself the target of an assassin.  Perhaps more disturbing is the rumor of a one-eyed Qunari who has so far thwarted all the attempts.  Will Dorian dare to find the truth out for himself?  And once he does can he open himself up to the possibility that things might be different this time around?
Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 11
Kudos: 92
Collections: The Adoribull Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before we start the fic I just want to say thank you to my amazing artist,[Venndaai](https://venndaai.tumblr.com/). Their artwork is amazing and I know you'll love it!!!  
> Also, I would be lost without my beta and bestie [Dichotomous Dragon](http://dichotomous-dragon.tumblr.com/). It was so fun getting to dive back into the world of the OTP with you!  
> And finally, my greatest thanks and appreciation goes to [Muchy Mozzarella](https://adoribullholiday.tumblr.com/), without whom this Big Bang would not exist! Thank you for all your hard working making this Bang a success!!!
> 
> And now, on with the adventure...

Dorian stepped over the mangled body of a Qunari warrior to stand beside Bull. Casting a concerned glance up at his lover he whispered, “Are you alright, Amatus?”

Bull growled softly, not bothering to spare Dorian a glance. “Magic fucking mirrors, Kadan…”

Dorian reached out, his hand curling around Bull’s forearm just as Ellana reached for the door at the end of the hall. Opening his mouth to speak, Dorian was interrupted by the distinctive roar of a dragon echoing off the stone walls.

Ellana’s strangled voice reached them a moment later. “Dragon’s breath is an actual dragon?”

“Shit,” Bull muttered, shaking off Dorian’s touch as he hurried to catch up to the pair before them.

Dorian was too far away to hear what was said next, but there was no mistaking the gruffly growled words as anything but Qunlat and Dorian threw a barrier over Varric and Ellana as the pair stepped into the room. Prepared to follow them, Dorian was surprised when Bull froze in the doorway the moment a female voice rang out.

“Inquisition! Nehraa ataashi-asaara meravas adim kata!”

Peering past Bull, Dorian saw a towering Qunari woman, horns curled back along the sides of her head, her lips twisted in a snarl. Nudging his lover, Dorian hissed, “Bull…move.”

As though she’d heard him, the woman’s eyes met Dorian’s, her lips curling up in a cruel mockery of a smile. “Hissrad! Now, please. Vinek kathas.”

Kaffas, Dorian might not know much Qunlat but ‘Hissrad’ he knew.

“Understood Ma’am,” Bull rumbled, his shoulder dropping as he shifted his weight, slamming his body into Dorian and making his head crash against the doorframe. Ears ringing, Dorian was helpless to prevent himself from crashing to the ground. Through watering eyes, Dorian watched Bull step over him and move further into the room. “Change of plans. Nothing personal…bas.” 

_Noooooo!_ Dorian could have sworn he cried the word, but if he did, no one seemed to hear him as the female Qunari stormed from the room and the battle began in earnest between Bull and his teammates.

Watching Varric loosen a bolt that caught Bull in the shoulder, Dorian fought his own instinct to cast a fire bolt at the dwarf in return. Frozen in place, he watched Ellana pull her daggers and begin creeping up on Bull from his left side. Clenching his jaw so tight his teeth ached, he forced himself to remain silent as one of his best friends attempted to kill his lover.

Just as she reached striking distance, Bull spun, the shaft of his huge maul catching her in the ribs, his momentum throwing her forward over the short railing to the floor below.

Struggling to his feet, Dorian watched a bolt pierce Bull’s side, his head swinging to once again focus on Varric who leaped over the railing and down to the floor below, trying to gain some distance. Stumbling forward, Dorian grabbed Bull’s arm and finally finding his voice pleaded, “Please, Bull, don’t do this. She can’t make you do this.”

For a second, Bull’s expression softened, the hint of a smile curling his lip. “You’re a good man, Dorian,” he said. Then his expression hardened. “-But you don’t know shit.”

Shaking Dorian off as though he were a flea, Bull followed the other two over the railing, landing hard with his mace in front of him. Dorian watched him stalk toward Ellana, still laying winded on the ground. Bull raised his mace over his head as Varric loaded another bolt in his crossbow. “Do something, Sparkler!”

“BULL!” Dorian shouted, watching the mace begin to swing down towards Ellana and then, suddenly, Bull was thrown to the side, crashing through the scaffolding there and bringing it down on his head. It was only after Varric shouted ‘that’s the way’ that Dorian realized his hands were raised in a force position.

“Vishante kaffas,” he whispered, watching Ellana sit up and shake her head before rolling to her feet just as Bull emerged from the pile of broken timber with a feral growl. _No, not Bull, he can’t be Bull or I’ll never…Hissrad. He’s Hissrad now._

Mind made up, Dorian joined the fight in earnest. He and Varric attacked from a distance while Ellana danced around Hissrad, keeping a step ahead of his mace. Familiar as they were with each other’s fighting style, the battle took longer than Dorian would have liked and he began feeling the pull of a decreasing mana pool just as Hissrad dodged one of Varric’s bolts only to miss Ellana as she rolled in low and sliced his right hamstring.

Hissrad screamed, stumbling as his good leg buckled, the mace toppling from his fingertips, catching Ellana in the shoulder as it fell. She cried out and Hissrad looked back just as Varric sent a bolt through his chest. Gasping, a spray of blood escaped Hissrad as he looked down at Ellana, “Tricky Bas.”

Time seemed to freeze as Dorian watched Ellana flip her dagger, holding it by the blade in a move he knew meant she was about to end it even as Varric knocked another bolt in his crossbow. Blood soaking through those hideous pants of his, Hissrad turned his attention away from both of them to look at Dorian, his expression softening and for a second Dorian saw _him_ again, not Hissrad but Bull. Winking in that horrible way of his, he reached for the hand axe at his belt.

“Nooooooo,” Dorian cried, his fingers flying as he traced the spell, words falling from his lips and then he could feel the spell connect, could feel exactly how much life force _Bull_ still had within as he began to siphon it to himself.

Ellana brought her arm back.

Varric brought the crossbow up.

_Faster. Faster._

Dorian continued muttering, demanding more from the spell, feeling even the tiny nick he’d made shaving heal as he drained everything Bull had to give. Ellana released her dagger and Varric his bolt but they were too late, Bull’s body was already crumpling to the ground, his half of the dragon tooth amulet hitting the hard stone floor and cracking in half.

The silence was so complete Dorian swore he could feel his own heart breaking as the three of them stared at their fallen companion.

“Can’t believe Bull turned on us,” Varric said, moving to help Ellana get to her feet. “He’s a better liar than I gave him credit for.”

“The Iron Bull must have been so proud of himself,” Dorian muttered, making his way to them on stilted legs. “Kadan,” he snorted, laughing bitterly.

Approaching Bull, Ellana shrugged her injured shoulder, testing the damage. “I still don’t understand how he could fight beside us for years and just…” she broke off with a growl as the sound of another dragon roar reached them. “Come on. Let’s move.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dorian watched the familiar fields pass outside the carriage window. Despite the number of years it had been since he’d last seen these lands he knew without a doubt that in minutes the waving fields of golden grain would give way to the soft hills lined with vines that would now be heavy with grapes. Pavus grapes, for this was all Pavus land and in a few minutes the carriage would turn onto the drive that would take him to what was now _his_ estate.

He knew that thought should bring him joy. As heir, he finally had the power to begin exacting the changes he hoped to bring to Tevinter but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

He wasn’t even certain he’d be here now if Ellana hadn’t burst into his room on the second day after their final battle and begun packing his belongings. It had only taken a comment about how much easier it would be to fold his clothes if she had two hands to force him off the bed. Before he knew what was happening she was hugging him and telling him she would be there whenever he needed her, and then he was in the carriage. It was simplier to let the driver continue than to tell him to turn around.

Besides, it wasn’t as if the South held anything for him anymore. He’d made his decision and now he had to live with it, even if three weeks later he still woke up every morning surprised when he rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty.

Exactly on schedule, Dorian felt the carriage slow then turn up the drive that would return him to not only his home but to his place in Tevinter society. Drawing in a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and pushed any thought of Bull and what had happened in the South out of his mind. He could no longer afford the indulgence of grief. He had a nation to transform.

********************************************************

“He was a good man.”

Dorian nodded his head and shook Magister Varenis’s hand. He knew for a fact the man had hated Halward but honestly that just made Dorian like him even more. “He was. We appreciate you coming to show your support.”

“Of course. If you require anything when you return to Minrathous you have only to let me know.”

“That is very generous of you,” his mother said, reaching for Varenis’s hand and pulling him forward. “I fear I haven’t received your sympathy card yet but I assume that is because of the Qunari trouble.”

Dorian bit the side of his mouth to keep from laughing. He had forgotten how completely scathing his mother could be and apparently so had Varenis as he was now stammering that he was certain his secretary had sent it and yes, the incursions into the Nocen Sea lanes needed to be addressed.

“We are sorry for your loss, Magister Pavus,” Magister Taylorin said and Dorian turned to take the hand of the mayor of Carastes. His father would be pleased to know that the mayors of cities as far away as Vol Dorma had appeared for the service even though Dorian personally wished they had stayed home so that this never ending day could actually come to a close.

After thanking each person as they exited the chapel, Dorian offered his arm to his mother and they watched as his father’s coffin was moved from the chapel to the family crypt. Waiting for the pallbearers to relieve themselves of their burden and make their way out of the crypt, Dorian and his mother then entered the cool, dry space.

Moving to where the coffin was interred on a slab of black marble, Aquinea rested her hand over the crest of House Pavus that decorated the coffin. Dorian waited while she said her last goodbyes before turning to make her way towards the exit. Pausing when she reached him, she looked at him for the first time with eyes dry of tears. 

Opening her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by Dorian smiling at her and nodding his head towards the steps that would take her back into the warm Ventus sun. “Go ahead. I’ll be along shortly.”

She looked as though she would argue but in the end nodded sharply and stepped past him, leaving Dorian alone with the bones of the dead. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was one among them who would understand his actions in the South. He had a feeling the answer was no.

With his boots clicking against the marble floors, Dorian approached until he could stare down at the coffin lid. His fingers curling around the marble dais, he pretended he could look through the veil quartz lid to where the preservation spell maintained his father’s body within its stone repose.

“I am beyond incensed with you for having the audacity to die before we had an opportunity to speak again. In fact, I may very well never forgive you for it. Though I am quite certain if you knew what I have done it would be _me_ who was never forgiven. Regardless, you are gone and I am left. I wish you peace.”

With a sigh, Dorian allowed a single finger to touch the edge of the coffin before turning and making his way back to the door. He paused upon reaching the top step, surprised to realize it had begun to rain.

Staring at the drops of water hitting the threshold, Dorian was reminded of the day everything had changed. It had been raining that day too, the Chargers blood washed from their bodies into the soggy ground. How different might things have been if he had spoken up then, if he had told Bull that nothing was more important than the family he had made for himself?

His shoulders slumped as he reached a hand out to brace himself. Was it worth it? Had everything they’d gained been worth the price? Looking out, Dorian froze as a familiar profile appeared on the hillside, the broad shoulders and horns that could only belong to one man.

[ ](https://imgur.com/b8rcL8m)

Gasping, Dorian closed his eyes and shook his head and when he opened them again he saw only the familiar oak tree, its leaves sheltering the small table that sat below it. His heart racing, he stepped out into the rain and reminded himself that he had too much work to do to chase ghosts from the past.


	3. Chapter 3

One year later

Dorian stormed into his council chamber, heedless of the door slamming shut behind him or the thin trail of ice left in his wake. “Ignorant, self-important, narcissistic morons,” he growled, clenching his fist then flinging his fingers wide, flame licking across his skin. 

“ _Couldn’t possibly consider such an option at this time,”_ he muttered in a very accurate imitation of Magister Salenas as he continued to pace across the room.

“ _However would we hold back the oxen from the north if not for our slaves?”_ he parroted Magister Tessina’s words. “Yes, how horrible that you might actually have to use your magic for more than heating your tea.”

The door opened again, far more sedately this time, and he spared a glance to find Maevaris striding into the room, her lips set in a firm line. Lovely, so he was to be chastised like a child. 

Turning away from her he moved to stand beside the mullioned window behind his desk. “I apologize for losing my temper,” he said in an attempt to head off her chastisement.

He heard the chair on the opposite side of the desk creak as she threw herself into it. “You aren’t in the South anymore, Dorian. You simply cannot behave so brazenly here. Not if you hope to continue breathing and I need you alive if we’re to have any hope of completing the changes we wish to enact.”

Dorian snapped his fingers, banishing the flames and sighed. “I don’t know, Mae. Perhaps I’m not…”

A knock on the door interrupted them and at Dorian’s decree to enter his butler opened the door bearing Dorian’s afternoon tea.

“Forgive the interruption, Ser. Is now a good time?”

“Yes, yes, of course, Lorenzo,” Dorian said, waving the man towards the small table on the far side of the room where he normally took his tea.

With a nod of his head, Lorenzo moved across the room far slower than usual and Dorian couldn’t help but note that he was unusually quiet. Had Dorian been meeting with anyone but Mae he would have thought Lorenzo was simply trying to remain unnoticed but Dorian knew for a fact Lorenzo’s daughter was in Mae’s service and he never missed an opportunity to discuss her with Mae.

Waiting until the service had been set up, Dorian moved around his desk. “Is everything alright, Lonzo?”

“What? Yes, Sir. Of course.”

Dorian frowned when Lorenzo kept his head down rather than making eye contact. Moving to stand between the butler and the door he said gently, “Then I don’t suppose you’ll mind looking at me.”

“What? Oh,” Lorenzo sighed. “Of course, Ser.”

Seemingly resigned to his fate, Lorenzo straightened, squaring his shoulders before looking Dorian in the eye. 

Dorian gasped as the reason for Lorenzo keeping his head down became clear. His right eye was swollen almost shut and the left wasn’t much better with several deep abrasions at his temple and one that came dangerously close to his eye. “What happened? Who did this? Don’t tell me this happened on the way to the market. I’ve told you before to take the carriage, it is simply impossible to walk anymore without almost being run down. See, Mae, I told you…”

“No, Sir. I wasn’t struck by a carriage,” Lorenzo said.

Dorian frowned. “Well then what in the void happened to you?”

“To be honest, Ser, I’m not exactly certain. I had taken the carriage as you directed and was returning to it after purchasing new tea and I was attacked. They pushed me into an alleyway and I explained I had no money but they said that wasn’t what they wanted and began beating me. I feared they would kill me when I was saved by one of the ox men.”

“Qunari,” Dorian corrected reflexively. 

Lorenzo nodded several times. “Yes, Ser. I’m sorry. It was a Qunari, Ser. Biggest one I’ve ever seen with horns…well, they were huge. No mistaking him.”

Dorian scowled. Qunari were rare in Minrathous and those that were here tended to be kept indoors, the trophy of whichever Magister managed to capture them. For one to be wandering the streets alone…

Smiling softly at Lorenzo, Dorian cupped his shoulder and squeezed gently. “I appreciate you telling me the truth. I believe you could serve me best by taking a few days off to recover properly. Your wages shall of course continue to be paid during your absence.”

Lorenzo’s eyes went wide, a thin sheen of tears filling them. “Oh, thank you, Ser. I didn’t think…that is, I didn’t want to leave you without service…”

Dorian chuckled. “I dare say I’ll survive preparing my own tea for a few days.”

There was no mistaking Mae’s snort. “I would prefer the building remain standing,” she said brightly. “I shall send Lenora over during his absence.”

“Oh, thank you, Ma’am,” Lorenzo said, breathing a sigh of relief that had Dorian rethinking his generosity.

“I could do it,” he grumbled under his breath.

“I don’t doubt it, Ser, but Lenora will take care of you. You shouldn’t have to do such things yourself.”

Fully aware he was being placated, Dorian waved him off. “Yes, yes. She’ll be fine. Now go, get some rest and I don’t want to see you back here until you can move without wincing.

“Yes, Sir. Thank you again, Sir, Ma’am.” With a low bow he made his way to the door closing it silently behind him.

Mae moved towards the door, locking it before continuing to the table where their tea was laid out. Sitting down, she gestured toward the other seat. “Sit down, Dorian, before your tea gets cold.”

Doing as ordered, Dorian sat and picked up his tea, hesitating once he raised it to his lips, a chilling thought flitting through his brain. Lowering his cup without ever taking a drink, he asked, “You don’t think Lorenzo’s attack was an attempt to get an assassin closer to me, do you?”

Mae took a sip of her tea, watching him over the rim. “I think you’d be a fool to think otherwise.”

Dorian snorted and plucked a tiny sandwich off a tiered platter. 

Setting her cup down, Mae reached for his free hand, curling hers over his. “Which is why you need to be more cautious, Dorian. I meant what I said earlier, I can’t do this without you and at this rate your possible enemies are starting to outnumber your allies.”

Dorian’s bark of laughter echoed through the room. “I thought that meant I was doing something right.”

“ _Dorian_ …”

He spread his fingers, allowing Mae’s to lace with his. “I understand, my dear, and I promise to try to be more patient. Even with that cretin Tessina.”

Mae’s sigh was more for show than any true vexation with him. “That is all I can ask.”


	4. Chapter 4

“The party is in our honor, Dorian. You might at least attempt to appear entertained.”

Dorian dipped his head to hide a hint of a smile. “Yes, and if the event were being hosted by one of our own I might not have to feign interest.”

Mae chuckled discreetly behind her hand fan. “You know that would only invite trouble. We mustn’t appear too certain of our eventual victory.”

“I must admit convincing Salenas to host the celebration was a stroke of genius. I don’t suppose you’d like to share how that miracle was accomplished.”

“Dorian,” Mae drawled, snapping her hand fan shut and tapping him on the arm with it. “You know a lady mustn’t reveal all her secrets.”

Dorian’s snort of laughter was quickly swallowed and a glance around the room showed that no one appeared to have noticed. Smirking at having reduced him to such a base response, Mae turned her attention back to the room before them just as a black suited waiter appeared before them bearing fresh drinks.

Suddenly parched, Dorian inclined his head minutely in thanks as he took the glass of red wine. Waiting until the man moved off, Dorian swirled the wine in its glass then discretely wiped a drop off the edge with his pinky and deposited it in the center of his moonstone ring. Giving the room another bored look he counted to twenty before glancing down to verify the moonstone still shone white.

Pleased the drink hadn’t been tampered with he raised it to meet Mae’s then brought it to his lips just as he was bumped into, the glass spilling all over his trousers and the floor. “Vishante kaffas,” he hissed, spinning on his heel to confront whatever imbecile had just ruined a very expensive pair of pants only to find no one there.

“Are you alright, Dorian?”

“You mean aside from basting in Sun Blonde Vint-1?” he snapped, immediately regretting it as Mae’s eyes went glacial. Mae might be his closest friend but she was also a powerful mage who expected better than to be the target of his misdirected anger. 

Closing his eyes he drew in a deep breath and released it. “Forgive me, I’ll just go and see if there is any saving the evening.”

Mae tilted her head graciously and Dorian moved away from their table while trying to keep to the edges of the room. Passing another small cluster of guests, he couldn’t help overhearing their conversation. 

“I was not aware Magister Salenas had a Qunari slave.”

“If it is always that clumsy I wouldn’t claim him either.”

“With horns that wide I am surprised it can make it through the doors.”

Dorian’s footsteps faltered, the color leaching from his face. _No. Surely it couldn’t be. It_ **_had_ ** _to be a coincidence._

Heart beating wildly, he reminded himself that eavesdropping was definitely _not_ the done thing and forced himself to continue on. By the time he entered the ornately decorated lavatory he felt like he had run a mile through the Hissing Wastes. Raising a shaking hand to his face, he froze as the gold framed mirror reflected his moonstone ring…the stone now jet black.

Fumbling, Dorian tore the ring from his hand and threw it, listening to it hit the countertop before skittering into the sink basin. Securing the lock on the door, he approached cautiously and peered down at the hunk of silver and onyx. 

Poison. It was only one way the stone would turn black and whatever had been used hadn’t taken effect immediately. He would complain about the enchant being faulty if he hadn’t done it himself. There were only a handful of poisons that could have had such a delayed effect and none of them common to Tevinter.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he carefully picked up the ring and wrapped it before tucking it away in his pocket. He doubted the trace amounts on the stone would harm him or he’d likely already be dead but there was no sense taking chances. Tomorrow he would send the ring off to Sera who knew more about poisons than anyone he’d ever met. With luck she’d be able to identify it.

Splaying his fingers on the countertop, Dorian stared at himself in the mirror. He could already hear Mae tsking at the panic evident in his eyes, his normally tan skin ashen. _Really darling, you know I supported your interest in the South but did it really have to leave you so…expressive?_

 _Expressive._ His reflection smirked and Dorian was swept into a memory he’d thought locked long ago...

_“You can’t be certain how many there are. It’s possible the entire Magisterium was behind it.”_

_Dorian paused, the kohl less than an inch from his skin and he peered at Bull’s reflection in his mirror. Turning his attention back to his preparations, he swept the kohl across his eyelid. “I’m fairly certain Mae had nothing to do with it which means there’s at least one person I can trust.”_

_“Damn it, Dorian, you know what I mean,” Bull argued, loud enough Dorian feared they’d be overheard._

_Setting the kohl down on his dressing table, Dorian turned and stood, closing the space between them. He laid his hand on Bull’s tensely crossed arms and said, “I do, Amatus, and I appreciate your concern but you know I have to return.”_

_Bull’s jaw tensed, his eye narrowing as he glared down at Dorian for a long moment. “I understand your need to go, I just think I should go with you.”_

_“And what? Run the household? Act as my bodyguard? Do you really think they would allow you into the Council chambers?” Dorian asked, a fond smile curling the corner of his mouth. “No, Amatus. Tevinter would be even more tedious for you than it will be for me. I won’t risk you in that viper pit.”_

_Bull sighed, the tension leaving him on his exhaled breath. “That’s the problem, Kadan. You are no longer one of them.”_

_Dorian snatched his arm back, affronted. “I’ll have you know…”_

_He gasped when Bull wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. “Don’t get your feathers ruffled,” he said, his expression softening until something far too close to pity filled that one expressive eye. “You’ve just lost your father and love him or hate him…”_

_“I’m going back_ **_because_ ** _of him,” Dorian hissed, ineffectually pushing at Bull’s chest._

_“Exactly. And you’re going to get yourself killed doing it.”_

_Fury filled him and fire danced along his skin. “It’s good to know you have such faith in me,_ **_Amatus.”_ **

_Bull released him with a defeated sigh, allowing him to stalk toward the other side of the room. Furious that Bull thought him incapable of achieving his goal Dorian peered out through the dozens of diamond shaped panes of glass, refusing to look at his lover._

_He felt Bull move behind him, silent as ever despite his bulk. He could sense him reach out only to pause before touching him as if he were afraid Dorian would break as easily as the glass before him. “Grief seeps from your pores, Kadan. It is not your ability to fight I doubt but your ability to hide how deeply you love even those who do not deserve it.”_

A bitter sob escaped him, startling Dorian from his memories. He had thought nothing of it at the time but looking back it seemed impossible to believe that Bull had only been talking about Halward. Had he known even then how things would end? Had he played the concerned lover while knowing he’d be commanded to kill them all the next day?

“Knowing wouldn’t change anything,” he muttered to himself. “And you don’t have time for this.”

Staring at his reflection, Dorian shoved the memory back into the box he’d forced every thought of Bull into then commanded his fingers to release their white-knuckled grip on the counter. Drawing in a deep breath, Dorian worked to smooth every line of tension from his face. Brushing a loose strand of hair into place, he squared his shoulders and slowly released the breath he was holding. He had a party to attend.

********************************************************

The soft zip of metal against wood was Dorian’s only warning before his bedchamber was filled with sunlight. Blinking owlishly, he hissed, “What is the meaning of this?”

“Forgive me, Ser,” Taliq said, bowing several times. “Magister Tilani is downstairs. She insists on speaking with you.”

“Kaffas, Mae,” Dorian muttered on a yawn. “What time is it?”

“Shortly after eight, Ser,” Taliq said, moving to Dorian’s closet and beginning to decide on robes for the day.

With a sigh, Dorian sat up and swung his legs out of bed. It would seem his hopes of sleeping in were dashed so he might as well find out what had Mae here so early considering they hadn’t left Magister Salenas’s soiree until well after two.

He allowed Taliq to fuss over him, helping him remove his nightclothes before dressing in pale grey silk undergarments followed by navy blue robes in a rich velvet. He had finally passed the year of mourning and while it wouldn’t do yet to be seen in vibrant colors yet he had already requested anything black banished to the back of his closet.

Waving Taliq off, he took a brush to his own hair, taming the worst of the tangles before deciding that if Mae wished him to look more presentable she should have waited until a decent hour to come calling. Slipping his feet into a pair of black velvet slippers he asked, “Which room is she in?”

“Your study, Ser.”

“Very good. I suppose you should see about tea,” he sighed, smothering another yawn as he made his way towards the stairs.

“Already arranged, Ser. It should be served momentarily.”

Dorian waved his hand in thanks and hurried towards the large room he’d claimed at the back of the house. He doubted he’d left anything interesting lying about but Mae wasn’t above opening a drawer or two if he allowed her enough time to grow bored and he’d left the ring in his desk the night before in anticipation of sending it to Sera.

Opening the study door, Dorian found Mae seated at one of the chairs by the chess set as she pondered the board. “If a game is what you’re interested in you could have waited until a civilized hour.”

“Civilized behavior was abandoned between us years ago,” Mae drawled, stretching out her elegantly manicured fingers and pushing a pawn forward two spaces. 

Dorian snorted and shook his head, crossing the room and dropping into the seat opposite her. Moving one of his pawns, he sat back in his seat and studied his closest friend. 

While as immaculately put together on the surface as ever, Dorian could see the hint of dark circles beneath her eyes and the second button on her robes was only half-fastened. Whatever Mae was doing here it certainly wasn’t about chess.

She put him out of his misery a moment later when she pushed her bishop halfway across the board then sat back and said, “Magister Salenas was found dead in his library this morning.”

Well that was certainly inconvenient considering his own close call. “I hope you don’t think I did it,” he drawled, reaching for a pawn.

“Certainly not,” she scoffed. “They suspect saar-qamek.”

Dorian’s hesitation was brief, a split second pause before picking up the pawn and moving it to block her bishop. Still he knew she’d seen it when she huffed and sat back in her seat without moving another piece.

“You know something.”

It took all of Dorian’s considerable skill to force an easy grin to his face. “I know it’s not a way I’d like to die.”

Mae gave him a withering look. “I heard the rumors last night, Dorian. You expect me to believe it a coincidence that you were saved by a Qunari only hours before the man who undoubtedly ordered you poisoned dies himself by Qunari poison.”

_“Not all poisons kill quickly, Dorian. Some of them just make you wish you were dead.”_

_They were lying in bed after a rather energetic bout of sex that left Dorian wondering whether he’d have enough energy for round two or not. Rather than leaving he’d let Bull roll them over so he was sprawled on top of him and as his breathing had begun to return to normal he’d started tracing the scars across Bull’s chest, inquiring as to their origins. The scar in question was a small one less than an inch below his third rib that had prompted Bull’s comment._

_Resting his chin on his hand, Dorian peered up into Bull’s eye, gone dark with a memory obviously better left untouched. Hoping to ease the mood he smirked, “I’ve been to one or two dinner parties that felt that way.”_

_Bull scoffed, his huge chest heaving beneath Dorian. “I’m not talking about your fancy dinner parties, Dorian. This one,” he said, moving Dorian’s hand to a thin raised scar that curved along his bicep. “Saar-qamek. Without the antidote I’d have been puking my guts out while my brain slowly unraveled until I didn’t know who or where I was before finally killing me.”_

_“Delightful,” Dorian drawled, his interest in a second round fading by the second. “At least you mention an antidote.”_

_He only wished there was an antidote for this conversation. The night had been going so well…_

_Dorian squeaked as Bull banded his arm around his waist and rolled them over, slotting himself between Dorian’s legs and peering down at him._

_“It doesn’t work like that,” Bull purred, leaning down to nip at Dorian’s ear. “For saar-qamek the antidote must be taken first… allowed to build up in the system… like the scratch to an inch you don’t have yet.”_

_Bull punctuated his words with harsh nips and licks to Dorian’s jaw and by the time he reached Dorian’s lips they were both hard again and Dorian had given up any thought of leaving._

“Dorian?”

He startled, torn from his thoughts to find Mae looking at him with concern. Faking a yawn, he waved away her worries. “Forgive me, I am obviously not fit to be good company. As for the Qunari, well, since the war there are certainly more of them here than there used to be. If you’d like I can ask Sera for more information about saar-qamek when I send her my ring.”

The tiniest of lines formed between Mae’s brows and was quickly smoothed as she stood and reached a hand out to him. “Of course. Forgive me for disturbing your rest. I am distrustful of coincidence.”

Standing himself, he took her hand and laid it on his arm as he walked her towards the door. “You could never disturb me, my friend. I’ll let you know the moment Sera responds. I’ll suppose I’ll see you again this evening at Magister Hanari’s event.”

Mae chuckled and rolled her eyes. “You would remind me of that. We shall undoubtedly have to sit through yet another performance by his oldest. You’d think by now he would have accepted the poor thing is tone deaf.”

“Yes, well, I’m not so certain he isn’t as well,” Dorian chuckled, presenting both cheeks for a kiss before watching her go. 

The moment her carriage door closed he returned to his study and pulled out the handkerchief wrapped ring and a fresh stack of parchment. Wetting his quill, he had barely gotten through a polite inquiry about Sera and Dagna’s health when there was a knock at the door.

He sat the quill down. “Enter.”

Taliq stepped into the room bearing a small package on a silver tray. “This just arrived for you, Ser.”

Dorian gestured for him to place the package on the desk and watched as Taliq did so, his white silk gloves a stark contrast to the rough twine and coarse brown paper wrapping. 

“Thank you, that’s all,” he said, waving his hand dismissively as he continued to stare at the unexpected gift as though it were a snake. 

Or poison. It does seem to be going around. Snorting at his own humor, Dorian cast the spell to detect any trace of magic and when it fizzled out without result, put up a barrier anyway before reaching for a thin silver knife and cutting through the twine. 

The paper fell to the desktop revealing a brown stoppered bottle marked only with a white label. Leaning closer, Dorian read the neat script written upon it.

Antidote.


	5. Chapter 5

“I believe I have heard more compelling plots in children’s tales.”

Dorian snorted, dipping his head to hide his smile. While he didn’t disagree with her, they were sitting in the Pavus box and unlike her he couldn’t hide his comments behind the wave of a fan. “’Tavi, please.”

Octavia leaned closer, her emerald eyes twinkling as she rested a daring hand on his thigh. It might be uncomfortable if not for the fact she knew he had absolutely no interest in her, nor she in him. That combined with her wit and family’s standing in the Magisterium made her the perfect companion. “Don’t act like you don’t agree, Dori. I’ve caught you nodding off twice now.”

Straightening his shoulders, he gave her his best insulted look. “Perhaps I was merely closing my eyes to better appreciate the…”

His words were interrupted by a soft rapping on the box door. After an acceptable moment, the door opened and one of the ushers stepped into the space. “Forgive me, Magister Pavus, I’m afraid you’re needed immediately downstairs.”

Dorian shared a confused look with Octavia, before standing. “If you’ll excuse me, my dear.”

“Of course,” she nodded back.

Stepping out of the box, Dorian allowed the door to shut behind him before asking, “What exactly is so pressing?”

The usher’s shoulders curled, his head hung low. “I’m afraid I don’t know, Ser. Once of your own people appeared at the side entrance and insisted you be summoned.”

“My own people?” 

“Aye, Ser. He was wearing Pavus livery.”

Unable to think of any possible reason Taliq would have sent a missive, Dorian waved the usher on. “Very well, lead on.”

“Aye, Ser. Thank you, Ser,” the usher sighed, spinning on his heel and leading the way down the stairs and across the empty lobby to a hallway Dorian had never noticed before.

The hallway led to a small waiting room with a single door on the far side. “What? Where?” the usher muttered, looking around confused. “I don’t understand, I left him right here.”

Only years of breeding kept Dorian from rolling his eyes. “If this is some kind of joke…”

The usher gasped, his eyes wide as he turned toward Dorian. “No, Ser, I promise. I left him right here. A young knife-ear wearing your livery. Perhaps he went outside.”

The man pushed open the door and disappeared into the darkness before Dorian could mention that he didn’t have a servant that fit that description. If it weren’t for the man’s obvious fear Dorian would believe this was some game concocted to make him look bad for leaving before the second act finished. Beginning to pace, Dorian was only a few steps from the door when his foot squelched against the lush carpet. 

Yanking his foot back, Dorian saw that the carpet where he had stepped was slightly darker than the rest of the flooring. Was this proof that someone had been in the room? Perhaps someone who tracked in water from outside? Bending, Dorian ran his fingers across the spot and was surprised when they came away red.

_ Kaffas. _ Surging to his feet he stumbled back several feet as he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the blood from his fingertips. 

The door opening had him calling up flames only to realize it was simply the usher, returned from his search. The pair stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Forgive me, Ser, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

A flick of his fingers banished the flames and with a shake of his head, Dorian squared his shoulders. “No harm done. I take it you found nothing.”

“No, Ser,” the usher admitted with a frown. “I’m sorry, Ser. I don’t know where he went.”

Dorian didn’t either but something told him whoever the man was he didn’t leave under his own volition. Not with that much blood on the ground. “I don’t suppose you saw a Qunari out there.”

“An ox, Ser?” the user parroted, looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

_ Because you have, Dorian. It can’t be him.  _ With a wave of his hand, Dorian said, “Never mind. I believe I’ve wasted enough of my time.”

“Of course, Ser, if you’d just follow me,” the usher said, completely oblivious to the puddle of blood he stepped in and was now tracking across the room.

Dorian debated mentioning it before ultimately deciding it would only raise more questions than he could answer and with a resigned sigh decided perhaps it would be better if he stayed home for the foreseeable future. 


	6. Chapter 6

Dorian stepped out of the manor with a contented sigh. He might not be a morning person but days like this, when the air held just enough nip to cool his cheeks and the clear sky promised warmer hours ahead, he could almost understand the attraction.

Stepping across the dark stones toward the drive, his good mood evaporated when instead of his trim, grey hansom the lumbering black traveling coach appeared between the gates. The larger conveyance, while perfectly delightful for journeys to Ventus was ill-suited to the narrower city streets of Minrathous, especially those near the Magisterium which was his destination today. The realization that he would likely have to walk several blocks to reach his chambers soured his previous goodwill towards the day.

Waiting until the carriage stopped before him and the footman hopped down to open his door, Dorian gave the man a pointed look.

“I know, Ser, I know. I apologize for the inconvenience but as we were bringing the ‘cab around we were stopped in the alley by a Qunari who said the rear wheel appeared damaged. We returned to the yard and found he was correct and several of the spokes were compromised.”

Dorian frowned. “How did the damage escape your attention in the first place?”

The footman scuffed his boot and shrugged. “We give the buggy a look over before we harness the horses but I swear I didn’t see anything unusual. It was only once Malcom and I were aboard that the damage became obvious.”

“Are you saying the damage was deliberate?”

“Undoubtedly, Ser. The damage was still minor when we caught it but with added weight in the cab the wheel would have shattered before we made it halfway to the Magisterium.”

A cold pit settled in Dorian stomach. A shattered wheel with the team of horses moving at full speed and they’d likely have all died.  _ Another assassination attempt then and your savior is once again a Qunari…you still doubt it’s him?  _

“The Qunari, what did he look like?” he asked, clasping his hands together behind his back to hide their trembling.

“The Qunari, Ser? He was an ox…huge, grey and ugly what more can I say?”

_ Ask the question. Ask about his eye and you’ll have your answer. Ask and you’ll know. _ Dorian teetered on the edge, the question burning his tongue but in the end he swallowed it down and climbed into the carriage. 

Some things were better left unknown.


	7. Chapter 7

Dorian drew up the hood on his cloak and peered both ways down the street. Finding it deserted, he stepped out of the building and let the door close behind him. Walking down the steps, he turned left and began hurrying down the block in the direction the hansom would be waiting. A thin layer of mist hugged the ground and trailed behind him with every step, a fitting accompaniment to the secrecy one of their Lucerni meetings required.

Looking back over his shoulder, Dorian stepped into the street, crossing it so that he could turn right at the next corner. In the beginning he’d questioned Mae’s caution in these matters but now he could see the wisdom in their staggered exits and winding steps away from every meeting. They were getting close to achieving their first true goal, payment of fair wages to all servants, including slaves, and the closer they got the more determined their opposition became to stop them.

He was halfway down the street when he felt it, that tingling at the back of his neck like someone was watching him and this time when he turned to look over his shoulder he paid closer attention to the shadows. Not seeing anyone, he picked up his pace, trotting across the street and heading for the corner.

His hands still hidden beneath his cloak, he traced the runes for a freeze trap while muttering the incantation beneath his breath. The smoke from the ice blended seamlessly with the fog as he stepped over the active rune and continued around the corner. The moment he was out of sight he crouched against the wall and waited.

It took longer than he’d thought it would, so long he’d almost decided he was being foolish but then he heard it, the soft snick of the rune triggering. With a smirk and a flare of his cloak he stormed back around the corner, a ball of flame licking at his palm only to freeze himself.

It wasn’t the dark haired elf currently frozen in place with a pair of wicked double-bladed daggers glinting in the moonlight that gave him pause. What stopped him in his tracks was the Qunari standing behind the elf. 

Almost twice as large as the elf with horns that spread out almost as wide as his shoulders before sweeping backward and a black patch over one eye, the Qunari stood as still as the elf though no ice held him in place.

“ _Bull_ …” The word escaped unbidden, halfway between a sigh and a sob and was followed by a wave of fury so hot it had Dorian storming towards the Ben-Hassrath spy before he could think better of it. “Venhedis, it _is_ you. What are you _doing_ here?” 

Bull relaxed, the arm with the dagger lowering as he gave Dorian a half grin. “Saving your ass as usual.”

A wash of something warm and entirely too arousing to be comfortable went through Dorian at hearing that familiar rumbling voice again. Then he actually processed the words and his jaw tightened. “I don’t _need_ your assistance, _Hissrad.”_

Bull rocked back on his heels like he’d been struck, his grin slipping. “He would say otherwise,” he answered, gesturing towards the frozen elf with his dagger.

“Yes, well, as you can also see, I have it handled,” Dorian said, his fingers painting the form of a new rune in the air before him and flinging it towards the elf to extend the freezing spell.

He had a moment of vindication when he saw Bull wince at the flare of his magic. All these years and it would seem he was still not comfortable with its use, yet more proof he didn't belong here.

Recovering, Bull squared his shoulders and shrugged. “Yeah, I’ll give you this one. But what about the theater, and the carriage, and the…”

Dorian growled and saw red as he surged forward and stuck his finger in the center of Bull’s chest. “Vishante kaffas, so it _was_ you. You’ve been stalking me all along!”

“Not stalking,” he said, glancing over Dorian’s shoulder, his eye widening when Dorian threw another refresh on the freeze trap without even looking. Turning his attention back to Dorian, his expression softened. “Protecting.”

Dorian barely bit back the whimper that threatened to escape. _How dare he? How dare he show up here and say those things as though Dorian were something important to him? As though he hadn’t tried to kill them all. Hadn’t forced Dorian to choose between what was right and the man that he…_

“No.” He hissed, jabbing his finger into Bull’s chest again before spinning away. “You don’t get to do this. You made your decision and I wasn’t it. I don’t need _you_ and I don’t need your protection.”

Bull’s words were calm and measured. “I know of a half dozen occasions that prove you wrong.”

 _A half dozen? Dorian was only aware of four…_ With a low growl Dorian spun on his heel and stormed back to Bull. Snatching the dagger from Bull’s hand he turned and drove it into the would-be assassin’s heart. Hand still on the handle, he hissed, “Go home, Hissrad. I don’t want you here and I won’t have your death on my hands.”


	8. Chapter 8

_I won’t have your death on my hands._

Dorian took another swig right from the bottle. Why had he said that? Venhedis, it had been almost two years, it wasn’t supposed to matter anymore. _He_ wasn’t supposed to matter anymore.

There was a soft knock on the door and Dorian debated telling whoever it was to go away but settled for taking another swig of the Vint-9. A vintage this good undoubtably deserved a glass but the matching empty bottle already discarded on the floor proved he wasn’t drinking for enjoyment.

“Well, you look like shit.”

Dorian startled, the heavy dragon tooth pendant in his lap almost sliding to the floor. With a clumsy grab he managed to save it without dropping the bottle. Glaring up at Mae he waved the hand with the bottle around. “You’re free to go.”

Mae snorted and came closer instead, knocking his feet off the ottoman to occupy it herself. Leaning forward, she rested her hand on his knee and peered at him with concerned eyes. “What’s the matter, Dorian? This isn’t like you.”

He snorted. “Doubt Father would agree with you,” he scoffed, tilting the bottle up once more.

With a huff, Mae took the bottle from his fingers. “Is that what this is about?” she asked, taking a small drink for herself. “Halward?”

Dorian took the bottle back when she offered it, taking another drink before looking past her into the fire. He debated lying but decided that if anyone deserved the truth it was her. “It’s him. All the foiled assassination attempts. All the Qunari. They’re him.”

“Him?” Mae asked, prying the bottle out of his hand. 

Unable to say the word, Dorian looked down, tracing the jagged edge of the dragon tooth with his finger.

“Bull?”

Dorian gasped, the word hurt as much as he’d known it would. Besides, it wasn’t true anyway was it? He may not have killed him but Bull died in that fortress the minute he turned on them. “Hissrad.”

Her grip on his knee tightened though her words were soft. “I thought he was dead.”

Dorian snorted.

“Dorian…”

He wanted to tell her, he did, but after spending so long burying the truth it was harder than expected to say the words aloud. “I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t, Mae,” he finally whispered, not able to meet her eyes. “I lo…well, it doesn’t matter why, I couldn’t let her kill him so I cast blood sacrifice on him and drained him until he was so close to death they couldn’t tell the difference.”

“Oh, Dorian…”

“I know, I know. Ellana would kill me if she knew. The only reason she’s accepted by half of Orlais is because they believe she killed him for being a traitor…if they knew,” he broke off with a shudder and reached for the bottle.

Mae pulled back, giving him a harsh look that turned into a staring contest that only ended when she sighed and gave in, handing the bottle over and letting him drink the last of it. 

“Is that why you’ve never spoken of it? To protect her?” Mae asked.

Dorian snorted again and dropped the empty bottle onto the floor. “I’d like to say yes, of course, but I’m afraid I’m not that noble. No, I did it to protect myself…and him,” he admitted. “Which is why the fool needs to go back to Par Vollen. He’d be safe there. Kaffas, even Seheron would be better than here.”

“That goes without saying,” Mae agreed with a nod of her head. “The question is why is he _here_?"

“He says he’s protecting me.”

“And you doubt him?” Mae asked, her tone harsh as she stared at him, daring him to lie. “Is he a danger to you?”

Dorian’s bark of laughter was dark. He had no doubt if he said yes it would be the last he heard of The Iron Bull or Hissrad or whatever he called himself these days. “Only to my sanity.”

“What can I do, Dorian? Do you want me to have him found? Killed?”

Dorian’s surprised laugh was slightly brighter. “Kaffas, Mae, you sound like a Crow. No, I don’t want you to do anything. He’ll tire of following me eventually.”

“And in the meantime?”

“I suppose he is doing a decent job routing out our enemies,” he shrugged, telling himself it didn’t matter to him if the damned fool got himself killed doing it.


	9. Chapter 9

“Certainly you can agree that they’ll require some form of oversight. They aren’t like us after all, they haven’t been raised to understand the value of gold.”

“Exactly my point. We’re expected to hand these knife-ears wages and believe they’ll know how to spend them correctly.’

“It’s preposterous.”

“What it is,” Mae said in response, “is a necessary step if Tevinter wants to continue evolving with the rest of the continent. As for oversight, perhaps you could provide assistance in that endeavor, Magister Baseant. I understand that your estate just went through a rather large restructuring.”

Dorian bit back a laugh. It was a rather poorly kept secret that Baseant had been forced to liquidate several properties due to his own mishandling of finances which is why Dorian found all of this so tedious. Men with chests overflowing with gold arguing about the misspending of what amounted to a few silver rather than discuss what it was really about. Power. 

Deciding he needed a break before wading into the fray, Dorian gave Mae a nod and headed for one of the pairs of opened doors that led outside. Stepping out into the rapidly cooling evening, he found himself alone on the wide patio that ran the length of the manor. Moving towards the railing where he could look down over the garden, he braced his hands on the cool stone and closed his eyes.

 _Perhaps Bull had been right all those years ago. Maybe he_ **_had_ ** _changed too much to be of use. It was certain that he lacked Mae’s endless patience with idiots like those inside, too certain of their own importance they were blinded to the fact that their position in life was built on a lie. The lie that their ancestry made them superior to the other races when, but for a chance of fate, it could have been they who swept the grounds and changed the chamber pots._

“I was impressed by your speech today.”

Dorian startled, opening his eyes to find a tall, handsome younger blond staring down at him, his lips twitching with amusement.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that I’ve been waiting all evening to speak to you and finally found my chance,” the stranger said, leaning a hip against the railing. 

“Entirely my fault,” Dorian admitted with a nod. “I didn’t expect anyone to be out here, certainly not someone who actually appreciated my speech.”

The blond tipped his head back and laughed, his eyes twinkling when he looked back down. “It does seem that most of the Magisterium would prefer to remain in the Ancient age. Which is why I thought you should know that some of us understand that things must change if the Imperium is to flourish.”

“Indeed.”

“But forgive me, I’m being rude,” the blond said, folding his right hand over his chest and bowing deeply. “I am Magister Silas Silvana of Perivantium.”

Dorian knew the area and couldn’t help but wonder if Silas’s open thinking came from living so close to the Nevarran border. Replicating the man’s gesture, he bowed back, though not quite as low. “Magister Dorian Pavus at your service.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Magister Pavus,” Silvana said, practically purring the word pleasure in such a way that had Dorian’s brow arching.

“You as well, Magister Silvana. It’s always refreshing to meet another with similar ideals.”

“Please, call me Silas,” he said, taking a deliberate step forward into Dorian’s space. “I believe we might have more than one similar interest.”

“Is that so?” Dorian said, taking a half a step back and resting his hand against the railing.

Silas laid his hand down next to Dorian’s, the tip of his index finger stroking Dorian’s. “Perhaps we might take a tour of the gardens and discuss it?”

Dorian’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at the man in a whole new light. There was no denying he was handsome, his blond hair tied back with a single lock escaping and curving at the side of his face. And he certainly was forward which Dorian appreciated, but he tended to prefer his companions to have a certain maturity…

Movement from the gardens interrupted his thoughts, the flash of moonlight against silver horns and the no on his tongue morphed into a yes. If common sense wouldn’t dissuade The Iron…no, Hissrad, from following him, perhaps a demonstration of just how unneeded he was would.

“Wonderful,” Silas practically purred, his eyes darkening as he tucked one hand behind his back and gestured for Dorian to walk in front of him. “After you.”

He had only taken two steps when Silas’ hand settled in the small of his back, the heat of it a pleasant contrast to the cool evening and Dorian couldn’t help but think perhaps this was what he needed after all. Aware of being watched, Dorian moved closer the moment they reached the shadows of the garden, his side now pressed against Silas’s. 

Looking up at the other man, he asked coyly, “So did you really appreciate my speech or was that just flattery to lead to this?”

Silas laughed. “Must they be mutually exclusive?”

“Of course not,” Dorian agreed, allowing himself to be led into a dark corner. “I’m just vain enough to want to be wanted for my brain as well as my looks.”

“Have no fear, Dorian,” Silas purred, spinning him around and pulling him close. “You have not only a keen mind and sharp wit, but also lips I can’t wait to leave bruised and kiss-swollen.”

It would take a stronger man than he to resist such flattery and despite having started this tryst as a way to annoy Hissrad, Dorian felt his cock beginning to fill as Silas dipped his head and kissed him. Despite his youth, there was no hesitancy in the way Silas kissed, his teeth nipping Dorian’s lip, urging him to open his mouth, his tongue sweeping in to claim it as his hands began wandering. One hand gripped Dorian’s hip and the other slid beneath his coat to scratch down his spine.

Arching into Silas’ hard chest, Dorian moaned, spreading his legs so Silas could slot one between them, the press of his thigh creating delicious friction for Dorian’s attention-starved cock. Kaffas, it had been so long. Not since…

Silas broke their kiss, panting as he nipped and licked his way across Dorian’s jaw. “You taste as good as you look,” he growled, making Dorian moan when he bit his throat then ran his tongue along the abused skin.

“The night garden is just this way, Augustus.”

“I do hope the dark embrium are blooming. It’s said Magister Baseant has the largest selection in all of Minrathous.”

They both froze at the sound, their heads turning to take in the garden outside the alcove, every petal open to soak in the moon’s light.

“Kaffas,” Dorian hissed, pulling away and beginning to straighten his clothes.

“I’ll just…” Silas said at the same time, straightening his collar. “Yes, well, perhaps we can continue this another time…”

Glancing over his shoulder, Silas leaned in and kissed Dorian hard on the lips once more before disappearing into the night.

Running his fingers through his hair, Dorian tugged on his suit jacket and willed his erection to subside. Figures, the first opportunity he’d indulged in since returning to Tevinter and it’s interrupted by two geriatric horticulturalists. Sighing, Dorian began making his way towards the front of the garden, expecting to encounter the two at any moment.

Instead the only person he found as he exited the garden was a very tall, very broad Qunari, his chest hidden behind an immaculately cut dark jacket. Scowling at him, Dorian continued walking without saying a word.

“Enjoy your evening, Dorian.”

Dorian froze, the cadence and accent a perfect match for the second man he’d heard speaking only minutes before. _Of all the…_

Spinning on his heels with the intent of scorching the interfering jackass’s horns off, Dorian was brought up short to find him already gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief note to say that non-consentual drug use tag...yeah this is where it comes in. It also means Dorian's intent to enthusiastically consent to things of a sexual nature is also compromised and while things don't progress I encourage you to skip the starred portions of the chapter if you think they may be triggering. Everything before and after those areas should be safe. A summary of events is given in the notes at the end.

Dorian raised his head at the soft knock on his study door. “Enter.”

“Forgive the interruption, Ser,” Taliq said, stepping into the room with a bundle of pale blue paper on a silver tray. “This just arrived for you and the messenger said it was important.”

Dorian cast the typical spell to identify magic and was met with just a residual trace of a magic. Not enough to imply the correspondence was cursed, just what would be left from being handled by another powerful mage. Reaching out, he plucked the papers up and inspected the seal. “Thank you, you’re excused.”

Taliq bowed and left. Once the door was closed behind him, Dorian ran his finger over the seal, a single trumpet bloom of crystal grace resting over a stylized ‘S’, his lips curled in a grin. It would seem the youngster from the other night wasn’t quite done with him. 

Feeling a fluttering in his stomach he hadn’t felt in years, Dorian broke the seal and unfolded the paper.

_My Dearest Dorian,_

_I hope that that isn’t too forward of me but I find that I can’t stop thinking about our conversation in the garden last week. I regret that we were interrupted and hope very much that we might continue where we left off._

_Might you be available this evening perhaps? I have an exceptional bottle of Vint-3 I would enjoy sharing with you._

_I anticipate your arrival after eight._

_Yours,_

_Silas_

Dorian laughed as he read the note a second time. Impertinent whelp. Still, he was tempted. Mostly because of his impertinence. It had been too long since someone wanted Dorian enough to woo him. And receiving such a letter signed with his actual name was definitely wooing. Something not even Ulio had done and they’d conducted a secret tryst for almost six months. As for B…Hissrad, he’d been more prone to think yanking Dorian into his lap and growling was enough of an invitation…

_It was Dorian’s turn to get a round of the poison the Fereldens called beer and he’d managed to make his way back to the table and set the last four tankards onto the table without dropping them. Mentally patting himself on the back he headed towards his seat only to have Bull wrap his arm around his waist and pull, dragging Dorian onto his lap._

_“Kaffas, let me go you heathen,” Dorian fussed, slapping at Bull’s chest._

_Bull laughed, pinning Dorian’s hands with his free one and tugging him closer._

_“Awwww, come on, Dorian, it’s cold outside,” Bull whispered in his ear, his hand tightening around Dorian’s waist. “Sit here and let me warm you up a bit.”_

_He wasn’t lying about the cold…or about being warm. It was one of the loveliest things about their little agreement. He no longer had to worry about cold toes in the middle of the night. Still…there was a difference between allowing himself to stay in Bull’s bed and being perched on his lap like a porcelain doll. Opening his mouth to say just that, Bull pinned him with a stare. “None of them are paying any attention," Bull said with a jerk of his chin, indicating the table behind them. “So if you really don’t want to be here I’ll let you go but if this is just some ridiculous ‘Vint manners thing, let it go.”_

_Scowling, Dorian looked. There was no way no one had noticed…_

_Except they apparently hadn’t. Or else they just didn’t care._

_“Told ya, Big Guy,” Bull whispered, his breath hot against Dorian’s ear reminding him of other whispered words. That’s it, Dorian. So good for me. I’ve got you._

_Dorian shuddered and the hand around his waist went lax as Bull prepared to let him go. The small pit that formed in his stomach was proof enough he didn’t want that and once again, Dorian threw caution into the wind and did what he really wanted...and stayed._

Growling, Dorian reached for a clean sheet of paper. It would seem will alone could not continue to hold back these memories, perhaps it was time to take action. Scratching out his response, he put a dot of wax on the back and pressed his seal into it. The wax had barely set when he called Taliq to have it delivered, needing it gone before he could convince himself his actions were unwise. Missive sent, he turned his attention back to the work before him, and if he occasionally found his thoughts drifting to that night in the garden, well, he was only human.

********************************************************************************************************

Dorian stepped out of his carriage that evening and looked up. The manor was a decent size just on the edges of the second most desirable area of Minrathous. Posh enough to not draw attention but nothing overly extravagant. Now if Silas was only telling the truth about Vint-3, Dorian might start to think this little tryst could become something more.

Stepping up the half dozen steps to the entry, he knocked and was surprised when Silas answered the door himself. “Dorian, I’m so glad you came,” he purred, his eyes hooded as he stepped back to allow Dorian entry.

Throwing back the hood of his cloak, Dorian gave him his most stunning smile. “How could I resist such an impetuous offer?”

Holding his hand out for Dorian’s cloak, Silas gasped. “Impetuous? I’ll have you know I waited an interminable six days before contacting you,” he pouted, hanging the cloak on a peg.

“A whole six days, however did you stand it?” Dorian chuckled, finding himself more entertained than he’d expected. There was something about the teasing that felt familiar and yet entirely new.

“It was horrible, I do admit,” Silas said, closing the distance between them. Reaching out, he pulled a single finger down the center of Dorian’s chest. “But I believe you’re worth the wait.”

Dorian swallowed hard against the heat he saw in Silas’ eyes. “Yes, well, I am rather remarkable.”

Silas threw his head back and laughed. “That you are, but I’m being rude again. I believe I promised you a drink.” Taking a step back, he gestured for Dorian to move ahead of him. “After you.”

Dorian slid past him, starling slightly when Silas’ hand settled firmly at his lower back. Rather than thick robes, he’d gone with only a thin silk shirt and trousers tonight, all the better to remove in a hurry but it meant he could feel Silas’ touch as though he were wearing nothing.

Stifling a surprising moan, Dorian allowed Silas to lead him up the stairs and down a hallway to a pair of open doors that led to a study. Stepping into the room, Dorian found that it was connected to what he assumed was the master bedroom by a second set of doors, now standing open. Arching his brow at Silas’s presumption, he was met with another deep laugh.

“I intend to ply you with the wine I promised, but I see no reason to pretend the night isn’t going to end where we both want it to,” he said, running his fingers across Dorian’s shoulders before moving past him towards the bar that sat in the corner of the study. 

“I must admit I am accustomed to a little more…discretion,” Dorian said, stepping further into the room and resting his hands on the back of a wide leather couch that sat in front of the roaring fire. Swallowing hard, he admitted, “It has been awhile since I have…well, since.”

“Mmmm, I rather like that,” Silas purred, turning with the bottle in hand. He gestured towards the sofa. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Dorian did as he was bid, Silas’s comfort in discussing their arrangement and blatant appreciation for Dorian making him weak in the knees. Settling on one end of the couch, he smiled when Silas moved closer, handing Dorian a glass before sitting down right next to him, their legs touching.

Raising his glass, Silas said, “To new…contacts. May they be as exciting as they are fulfilling.”

A bark of laughter escaped Dorian as he raised his own glass. The man was incorrigible. Continuing to watch Silas, Dorian took his first sip of wine and moaned. Kaffas, it really was as good as promised.

Silas’s eyes flared at the sound, his lips curling as he took his own drink of wine before setting the glass to the side. “As good as the wine is, I must admit, I’m looking forward to tasting you more.”

Dorian gasped and took another healthy drink of his wine to hide his surprise. “You are incredibly bold.”

“Perhaps it is the time I spent in the South,” he admitted with a shrug. “I found an appreciation there for plain speech. I believe that is something we both share.”

_We don’t need to talk this to death, Dorian. I want you, and I think you want me. It’s a simple yes or no._

Dorian scowled at the memory of Bull’s hoarsely whispered words and the way he had shivered when Bull drew a single finger down his cheek.

Pulling back, Silas's eyes expressed his concern at Dorian’s sudden mood change. “Was I…”

Vishante kaffas, he was _not_ going to ruin this. Not again. Tipping his wine glass up, Dorian drank the rest of the ruby red liquid before setting the empty glass down next to Silas’ almost full one. “Forgive me, I was lost in thought for a moment but I’d much rather be lost in you,” he whispered, smiling wickedly.

A matching smile appeared on Silas’ lips and he surged forward, driving Dorian back into the corner of the couch as their lips met in a crash of tongue and teeth and need. Sliding his fingers through Silas’ hair, Dorian tugged at the tie, freeing the silky lengths. The ends tickled his cheeks as Silas broke their kiss to nip Dorian’s chin then kiss his way down his throat.

Eager hands tugged at his shirt, freeing it from his pants to work at the buttons while Dorian shoved at Silas’ jacket. Chuckling, Silas shrugged the offending cloth off, biting his lip as he reached for the two parts of Dorian’s shirt and pulled them apart, buttons flying.

“That was my best…” Dorian chided, cut off when Silas kissed him again, claiming his mouth with his tongue as his fingers worked their way down Dorian’s chest. When strong fingers pinched his nipple, Dorian threw his head back and gasped. “Kaffas.”

“Beautiful,” Silas growled, biting Dorian’s throat as he slid his hand lower, gripping Dorian’s cock through his pants. 

Dorian’s head spun. It had been so long and it felt so…

Lips, warm and soft, latched onto his nipple. Silas’s tongue teased the tight bud and Dorian moaned again, his eyes opening to find the room spinning. Scowling, he closed his eyes and opened them again but the bed in the other room was still upside down, then sideways, then…

Flushed and dizzy, Dorian pushed against Silas, trying to sit up but his attempts were ineffectual and his arms felt like they were floating. Trying hard to focus, Dorian lifted his head and found himself staring at two Silases. Kaffas, was that why he felt so odd, did Silas have a twin he hadn’t mentioned?

Both Silases lifted their heads, their smiles turning decidedly shark-like. “Feeling it are we?” he asked, his hand stilling on Dorian’s cock.

“Feeeweeng?” Dorian asked, frowning when the word came out slurred, his tongue feeling like it weighed a hundred pounds.

Silas’ smile broadened which made no sense, but then again neither did the twin images of Hissrad that appeared behind him and damn it, he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about him. Andraste’s knickers, that’s why he was _here_. To forget. 

Waving a wild hand, Dorian scowled at the Hissrads. “You’re not…” he said, eyes widening with horror as his former lovers slit the throat of his current lovers, both Silases’s eyes widening with surprise before going dark. 

Jerking his head back in surprise, Dorian felt Silas fall off him onto the floor and then he was being yanked up by the remains of his shirt.

“Dorian. Dorian, listen to me.”

Dorian gasped when both Hissrads slapped him hard across the face, his vision clearing for a moment to reveal that there was only one concerned looking Qunari. “That’s it, Big Guy, need you to stay with me,” Hissrad said, fumbling with a pouch at his waist and pulling out a vial of pale green liquid. “Need you to drink this for me.”

“I moooost not,” Dorian argued, trying to cross his arms defiantly only to find they no longer worked which was really going to be a problem for him when he tried to get up. Perhaps he should just stay here a little longer…

The second his eyes closed, he was slapped again.

“Damn it, Dorian, stay with me,” Hissrad sounded upset which Dorian knew should make him happy but instead just made him feel guilty. Forcing his eyes open, he saw Hissrad’s huge hand approaching, the small vial held tight in it. “Please, Dorian, I need you to trust me.”

Dorian scoffed, displeased when it came out sounding more like a sob.

“I know, I know,” Hissrad nodded. “Just drink this and you can scorch my horns later.”

Now _that_ sounded promising. Hissrad definitely deserved a good horn scorching and he was just the Magister…the mage…the _man_ to do it. Opening his mouth he allowed Hissrad to pour the contents of the vial into his mouth and vishante kaffas, it was worse than elfroot. Grimacing, Dorian forced himself to swallow then glared up at Hissrad just as his vision went black.

****************************************************************************************************************

Dorian woke to the discomforting feeling of his stomach trying to turn itself inside out and instinctively rolled to the edge of the bed before vomiting. Forcing himself to look and see the damage he was relieved to find a basket he’d never seen before sitting there. Thankful, he rolled onto his back and found himself staring up not at the beveled rosewood panels that stretched across the top of his bed but at a plastered blue ceiling which matched nothing in his manor. 

Scowling as he tried to remember where he was then it came back to him in a rush. Silas, kisses, drugged wine, daggers…

“Back with me now?”

_Bull._

_Kaffas._ Dorian’s arms shook as he struggled to sit up, his head pounding as he leaned back against the headboard. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here.”

“Well I couldn’t very well leave you here on your own. Antivan antidotes tend to be almost as bad as the poison and as you can attest, this one causes vomiting. I didn’t go to the trouble of saving you just to let you choke on your own bile.”

Dorian scrunched his face at Bull’s graphic description, his mind latching onto one word. “Poison,” he muttered, not certain why it surprised him to hear Bull say it when he had begun to suspect as much the night before. Kaffas, the night before. Memories flooded Dorian’s mind and he found himself laughing maniacally.

Leaning forward in the seat he’d taken by the window, Bull frowned. “You alright there, Dorian?”

The concern he heard in Bull’s tone only had him laughing harder at the irony of the entire thing. It was only when Bull went to stand that he managed to wave him off and stammer, “It’s just…I really know how to pick ‘em don’t I? First lover I’ve considered taking since…well, _since_ , and _he_ tries to kill me too. Perhaps I should just let the next one finish the job.”

Bull surged to his feet, closing the distance between them in two giant strides. Dropping onto the bed beside Dorian, Bull grabbed him by the shoulders and shook. “ _That_ is not going to happen.”

“Like it matters to you,” Dorian hissed, shrugging his shoulders to free himself of Bull’s touch. “You’re only doing this because you feel indebted to me for saving your life.”

“I’m doing this because the minute I took the first swing that day I knew I’d made the wrong decision. That betraying you should have never been an option.”

Something that felt far too close to hope bloomed in Dorian’s chest and he ruthlessly smothered it. “Some decisions don’t get to be remade, _Hissrad_.”

Bull hung his head, his eyes locked on the bedsheet. “Maybe not, but they can be atoned for.”

 _Just as he thought. He was nothing but an obligation._ “So you save my life what, five, ten times then you’re free?” he scoffed bitterly. “Consider your debt paid, Hissrad. Go home.”

Bull snorted and shook his head, finally meeting Dorian’s eyes. “There is no home for me. I knew that the day I betrayed you. I can go become some mindless field hand in Par Vollen or go south and chance rotting in a dungeon somewhere when Ellana catches up with me. Naw, I’ll take my chances here, thanks. At least here I’m doing some good.”

Refusing to feel bad for the man before him Dorian focused his attention on his hands, currently fisting the bed sheets. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m _never_ going to forgive you. Varric almost _died_ because of you. Fuck, _Ellana_ almost died because of you and she still apologizes every time we speak for bringing us both with her that day. 

“Even though _she’s_ the one they shun. The one the Orlesians write mocking plays about and _she’s_ the one apologizing to _me_ for making me choose. And here I am,” Dorian sneered, waving his arms around. “Too much of a coward to tell her the truth because if I did I’d never hear from her again and I couldn’t live with that.”

“Dorian…”

“No. You don’t get to talk this away. I made the decision and I’ll bear the weight of it for the rest of my fucking life, but you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not interested in offering you atonement.”

Bull slid off the bed without a word and headed for the door. Pausing in the doorway, he turned to look at Dorian, regret etched on his features. “I understand and I’ll try to stay out of your way from now on. I don’t need you to offer atonement, Dorian, I just need to know that you’re still here. That as long as I’m breathing you’re alive and well and…here.”

Dorian struggled to swallow past the knot in his throat. He felt like he should say something but before he could think of the words Bull was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Dorian's wine is poisoned and Silas seduces Dorian while waiting for it to take effect. Before things move too far Bull arrives and kills the would-be assassin before giving Dorian the antidote to the poison and returning him to his estate.


	11. Chapter 11

Several months and numerous conversations with Mae later Dorian still wasn’t certain if he’d made the right decision that day. When he’d first told Mae about the event she had suggested that perhaps if he’d offered his forgiveness Bull would have agreed to leave. But knowing Bull as well as he did, or at least once _thought_ he did, Dorian doubted words alone would have worked.

Still, Bull had been true to his word and Dorian had finally begun to feel like he could walk down the street without looking over his shoulder to find a familiar set of horns in the crowd.

“Are you listening to me, Dorian?”

“What? Yes, of course…actually, no,” he admitted, patting Mae’s hand that was currently resting on his forearm as the pair of them walked from back to his chambers following a meeting of the Magisterium. “I’m sorry Mae, I’m afraid I was wool-gathering.”

“I said I received a letter from Magister Belesant asking to speak with me regarding our attempt to ensure even slaves have access to physicians. He believes he knows one who would be willing to set up in the Liberati quarter.”

“That’s wonderful. Would you like me to accompany you when you meet with him?”

“I would appreciate it, at least until we’re certain of his intentions. After your experience with Silvana it is only sensible to take precautions.”

Dorian nodded, holding the door to his chambers open and gesturing for her to go through first. The moment they entered Lorenzo jumped to his feet and hurried to open the doors to Dorian’s inner office.

“Thank you, Lorenzo,” Dorian said, allowing Mae to enter the room before him.

“What’s this doing here?” Lorenzo muttered, reaching for something on Dorian’s desk.

“Wait,” he ordered. Lorenzo froze. Moving around Mae, Dorian could see the object in question was a folded piece of paper. “Did you not place it there?”

“No, Ser,” Lorenzo admitted. “I was in here less than an hour ago straightening up and your desk was clear.”

“I see,” Dorian said, moving closer. If it was a new assassination attempt it was rather badly done. Perhaps simply a threat. 

Glancing at Mae he saw the same questions in her eyes and at the same time both of them cast the spell to identify any magic clinging to the paper but it fizzled out without results. Moving to the other side of the desk Dorian was now close enough to see the very neatly blocked ‘D.P.’ written on the page.

Relaxing, he blew out the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. He knew that script almost as well as he did his own. He should, he’d seen it almost every day for years. The question was why was he writing now?

“It’s fine, just a missive I’ve been waiting for, I forgot to mention it would be arriving,” he said by way of explanation.

“But how did it arrive?” Lorenzo asked.

“How am I to know? I wasn’t here,” Dorian said, coming out from behind the desk to walk Lorenzo to the door.

“I’ve been in the office all day.”

“Yes, well, these things happen. No harm. I will be in a meeting until the end of the day, you are welcome to leave early if you wish.”

“Oh, yes, well, thank you, Ser,” Lorenzo said, giving the desk one last confused look before allowing Dorian to push him out the door, locking it behind him.

Dorian turned to find Mae regarding him curiously. “Care to tell me the truth?”

“It’s from Bull.”

“Bull? I thought you said he hadn’t contacted you.”

“He hasn’t,” Dorian said, sitting down and gesturing for her to do the same. “Until now.”

“And what does he want?”

“If you’d give me a moment to read his note perhaps I’ll know.”

Mae snorted and waved her fingers in a ‘get on with it’ gesture and with an eye roll, Dorian reached for the letter. 

_Dorian,_

_Found this in the claws of a Crow I caught circling your property last night. I was able to identify the sender by the seal and believe him to be the one behind the recent attempts on your life._

_I’ll handle him, but figured you should know just in case._

A shiver went down Dorian’s spine as he reread the unsigned letter. While the thought of an Antivan Crow gaining access to his estate was disturbing, he was far more concerned by the next sentence. No Magister worth his weight would stamp his seal on an assassination order. 

He jumped when Mae’s hand curled around his shoulder and he looked up at her with wide eyes. Tilting her head in question, Dorian handed her the letter to read and turned his own attention towards the piece of paper. 

“No Magister would do this,” Mae said, parroting Dorian’s thoughts.

Carefully opening the letter to avoid further damaging the seal, Dorian read a simple contract between someone identified only as ‘E’ and the House of Crows. “Odd seeing your name on an assassination order,” he murmured, dropping the letter and leaning back in his chair.

Mae snorted and patted his shoulder. “Take heart, I doubt it’s any more genuine than the seal.”

Dorian gave her a half grin. “Thanks, Mae. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said, reaching for the contract then standing and beginning to pace as she looked it over. “I admit it looks good. If it’s a forgery it’s a good one.”

“And the seal?”

“That’s what I don’t understand. This is Magister Escarra’s seal.”

“Escarra,” Dorian frowned. He knew the man of course. He was one of the oldest Magisters on the council, and also the most traditional. It didn’t surprise Dorian that he had apparently made it onto the man’s enemy list, not with the changes the Lucerni were trying to accomplish but the man’s carelessness in leaving evidence did. “Does it seem odd to you that someone as shrewd as Escarra used his personal seal on such an incriminating document?”

“It does seem out of character,” Mae agreed, looking over the contract again. “Unless he wanted you to know it was him.”

“Assuming he is the one behind all the attempts, why alert me now? Unless…”

A chill swept down Dorian’s spine as he and Mae’s eyes met, both of them uttering a single word. “Bull.”

“It’s a trap,” Dorian hissed, surging to his feet.

“It rather seems that way.”

“I have to go.”

Mae grabbed his arm as he stormed past her, forcing him to stop. “Release me,” he growled, attempting to shrug her off to no avail.

“No. Even if it is a trap it won’t do for you to go rushing into it along with Bull.”

“No,” he argued. “What won’t do is for that bastard to think he can harm what’s mine.”

Mae’s eyes widened, a slow smile curling her lips. “So, it’s like that, is it?”

 _What is she prattling…_ Dorian wondered, his own eyes widening as he realized what he said. He was surprised when rather than panic the realization only brought a sense of calm. “Apparently it is,” he said with a wry grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mae. I have a hard-headed Qunari to rescue.”

Mae’s grin broadened and Dorian leaned in to kiss her on the cheek before heading for the door.


	12. Chapter 12

Dorian watched as the scullery maid tossed the last of the kitchen scraps into the compost pile then paused to tip her head back and draw in a deep breath of cool night air before scurrying back into the kitchen. Using a subtle force push, he kept the door from closing securely behind her. Once he was certain she hadn’t noticed his manipulation, he dropped from the tree branch onto the spongy ground and began carefully picking his way towards the door, ensuring he remained in the shadows.

Peeking through the crack in the door, Dorian found the kitchen lit only by the banked remains of the fire. Tugging the hood of his cloak down further to hide his face, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. Fingers tingling with magic in preparation for a fight, he was almost disappointed to find the room as empty as it appeared. 

Letting the door close behind him, he ignored the arched doorway on the far side of the room that looked as though it led to the front of the house and instead made his way towards the alcove to his right. Once there he found that it was actually a landing with stairs leading both up and down. Pausing for a moment, he heard several voices coming from below, snippets of conversations about the day’s tasks and who saw who at the market making him think that the slave quarters were likely down there. 

Finding it doubtful Magister Escarra would have taken Bull down there, he turned his attention instead towards the stairs leading up, their treads covered with thick carpet. Accustomed to his own lively household, Dorian was surprised to encounter no one as he moved up to the second floor of the house and began to make his way down the hall. Stopping at the first door he again waited, listening for any sound of it being occupied and upon hearing nothing, peeked inside to find a darkened bedroom, the hearth cold. Closing the door and moving on, he repeated his action at three more doors before hearing a grunt come from one of the rooms ahead of him.

Abandoning his careful search, Dorian hurried forward, approaching the ornate formal staircase and the double doors that stood at the head of it. A pained gasp came from the room followed by muted words that sounded decidedly superior and with a low growl of his own, Dorian threw the door open.

Fire danced on his fingers as he took in the scene before him. Bull contained in a static cage, his body covered with cuts and gouges. Escarra sat frozen in place with a small batch of icicles floating in the air in front of him. Giving Dorian a lazy grin, he leaned back in his chair and flicked his fingers, sending the icicles hurling across the room where they embedded themselves in Bull’s chest before beginning to melt.

“If it isn’t the Pavus brat,” Escarra drawled, twisting his wrist to summon a new batch of icicles. “I admit I wasn’t certain you would come.”

“Difficult to ignore such an appallingly blatant calling card.”

Escarra smirked. “Yes, well, I wasn’t certain the ox would understand nuance.”

“That I’m standing here before you says he understands more than you expected.”

Fury blazed in Escarra’s eyes, quickly banked. “Yes,” he drawled, flicking a single finger and sending one shard of ice flying across the room into Bull’s shoulder. “It…was…rather…vexing.” 

With each word another shard flew, each one pulling a grunt from Bull as he struggled to remain on his feet, his entire chest matted with blood. Dorian’s fury built until he was surprised it didn’t scorch the hideous carpet beneath his feet. Forcing his features to remain impassive, Dorian shrugged. “I can imagine."

When the ice shards ran out, Escarra steepled his fingers and peered at Dorian over them. “Tell me, Magister Pavus, just what _did_ you do to inspire such loyalty in a beast?”

“I should think it would be obvious,” Dorian purred, one side of his mouth tilting up. “I let him fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight.”

Escarra gasped, his fingers curling around the arms of his chair, he leaned forward as though he couldn’t possibly have heard that correctly. Sensing his chance, Dorian let loose a fireball that came within an inch of impacting before being blocked by a shield and breaking into a dozen falling meteors. 

Dorian had a moment to appreciate that Escarra’s immaculate desk was now smoldering before the man surged to his feet and cast a new volley of icicles, this time in Dorian’s direction. Flicking his wrist to set up a shield of his own, Dorian snarled as the battle raged in earnest. It was obvious from the start that despite Escarra having decades more experience, Dorian was the superior mage and had it been a battle simply between the two of them it would have quickly been over. 

Unfortunately they weren’t alone and Escarra was not above using Bull to distract Dorian, several times forcing him to drop an offensive spell mid-cast in order to deflect an attack on Bull. Still, as the battle raged on, Dorian found pleasure in the ebb and flow of it, the raising of a shield to block winter’s grasp as he spun away, shifting closer to Bull as he cast spirit mark. 

“Stop protecting me and get him, Big Guy,” Bull growled after Dorian once again dropped an attack to cast wall of ice between them and Escarra.

“Are you the expert on mage duels all of a sudden?” Dorian hissed back, casting immolate on the heels of an energy barrage that shattered Escarra’s barrier and left him open when Dorian spun on his heel and sent a wave of ice shards flying across the room. 

Gasping as the shards found their mark, Escarra looked down at his chest and the one thick shard that had pierced his heart. “Didn’t expect that,” he whispered, his knees buckling. He dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap.

As he fell, so did the cage surrounding Bull and Dorian reached out as he caught sight of Bull also hitting his knees. Panting, Bull’s fingers curled into the carpet as he growled, “You weren’t supposed to come after me.”

Dropping down beside him, Dorian waved a hand dismissively and said, “Don’t be stupid. Of course I’d come. I’m fairly certain I owe you at least a dozen saves by now.”

“You shouldn’t have to save me from my own stupidity. I should have known better.”

Dorian couldn’t help a fond grin. “Yes, well, you’ve only been here for a few years. I have decades more experience with the vipers.”

“Decades is it?” Bull chuckled, rolling off of his hands and knees to sit and peer up at Dorian.

“We aren’t discussing that,” Dorian chided, giving Bull a pointed stare. “The point is you’ll learn.”

Bull’s eye went wide, a knowing grin curling his lips. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Dorian confirmed with a nod of his head. “Even if I have to teach you myself.”

“I thought you were done with me.”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Dorian. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be done with you.”

“You _should_ be done with me.”

“Yes, well, I’ve always been shit at doing what I’m supposed to.”

It was Bull’s turn to laugh though it was quickly choked off as he looked away, his hands clenched tightly. Turning his attention back to Dorian he said, “I’m sorry, Dorian. I would do it differently if I could.”

Dorian reached out to drag a finger over the dragon tooth Bull still wore. “I should have told you to save the Chargers that day…”

“That wasn’t your call,” Bull said, his words thick with emotion.

Dorian scowled, a flush of fury coursing through him at the remembered mistake. “It should have been. I knew what they meant to you and I didn’t say anything, even when Ellana agreed with you.” 

“Don’t fool yourself, Dorian. Whatever they want to call it now, we were at war. In war, people die.”

“They were your _family_ ,” Dorian said hotly, finally daring to reach out and place his hand on Bull’s shoulder. “Ellana was still reeling from her clan being killed at Wycome, her only thought was to ensure victory against Corypheus but no alliance was worth losing the Chargers, Bull. _None_.”

Bull looked away then down before leaning forward to rest his forehead against Dorian’s shoulder. His words were barely a whisper. “I miss them, Dorian.”

Dorian's heart clenched, and he reached up to scratch the base of Bull’s horns almost without thought. “I know you do.”

There was a squeak of floorboards and the sound of muttered voices and Bull yanked his head up, his eye meeting Dorian’s. Glancing towards the door, Dorian muttered, “Come now. I didn’t go to the trouble of saving you for you to die now.”

“Perish the thought, Big Guy,” Bull chuckled as they headed for the double doors leading to the balcony.


	13. Chapter 13

Dorian wiped the cleaning cloth across his face, removing what little remained of the kohl around his eyes. It would seem extended close quarters spellcasting played hell on his appearance. His fingers trembled, a choked sob escaping him as he dropped the cloth to the table. 

_Kaffas. He had come so close to losing him. What if he hadn’t realized it was a trap? What if he hadn’t returned to his chambers until morning…_

“You ok, Big Guy?”

Dorian startled, his eyes meeting Bull’s in the mirror’s reflection as he hastily grabbed the cloth and scrubbed his other eye. “Yes, yes, fine,” he muttered, ignoring the way his hand shook. “I take it the bath was satisfactory?”

When they’d made their escape from Escarra’s estate, Bull had insisted upon seeing Dorian home despite Dorian insisting he was perfectly capable of returning the same way he’d come. By the time they’d reached the manor Bull’s teeth were chattering so loudly it was amazing Dorian could still hear himself think and he’d found himself insisting Bull come in and warm up.

Taking a last swipe of his horn with a towel, Bull leaned against the doorframe and grinned. “It is ridiculously opulent and no less than I’d expect from you.”

Dorian scowled. The bath was one of his favorite rooms in the house, how dare… 

“Don’t go getting worked up,” Bull chuckled. “I’m teasing. Not often I find a bath big enough to fit me, it was a welcome surprise.” 

Dorian continued watching Bull in the mirror as he turned and disappeared back into the bathroom. He reappeared a moment later sans towel. “I should leave.”

Dorian spun around on the bench he was sitting on to scowl up at Bull. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

One side of Bull’s mouth turned up in a wry grin. “It’s better if you don’t know that.”

Dorian’s stomach turned at the thought of Bull disappearing into the night leaving him no way of knowing if he were alive or dead. “I’m serious, Bull.”

Bull’s grin faded. “So am I, Dorian. I can protect you best from the shadows.”

Dorian surged to his feet. “And what about you?” he demanded, waving his hand to encompass all of Bull. “In case it escaped your notice it was I who had to rescue you tonight. How can I do that if I don’t know where you are?”

Bull’s jaw tightened. “That won’t happen again.”

Dorian snorted and took a step closer. “Yes, because suddenly _you’re_ the expert on Tevene subtleties.”

“You never did tell me how you knew it was a trap.”

“Oh, please,” Dorian scoffed, turning away to pace across the room. “No Magister worth their mana would use their actual seal on a document that incriminating. Not unless they wanted you to know where it came from.”

Reaching the window, he paused to see his own wild reflection in the glass. As insane as it sounded, he hadn’t felt this alive in years and he found himself suddenly loathed to the idea of losing it. Of losing _him_. His eyes widened as he realized just what that tightness in his chest really meant.

“Should have known,” Bull muttered, reminding Dorian he hadn’t lost him just yet.

Spinning on his heel, Dorian stormed back across the room until Bull loomed before him. “The fact that you didn’t know that is why you shouldn’t be left to your own devices,” he stated, hands on his hips as he peered up at Bull.

He saw amusement in Bull’s eye as his lips curled in a lazy grin. “Is that so?”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “It’s amazing you’ve lasted as long as you have.”

“Hey!”

“Dorian pressed forward another foot, so close he could reach up and rest his palm on Bull’s broad chest. “I think it would be best if you stayed here from now on.”

Bull’s eye went wide, his smile broadening. “Yeah?”

“It’s the only reasonable answer,” Dorian said, struggling to keep his own expression neutral.

“It’s likely to cause a stir.”

Dorian shrugged. “My servants are very loyal. Freedom and a generous salary will do that.”

Bull tsked. “Still, moving an ox into the manor is…”

Dorian leaned up to place a finger against Bull’s lips. “A Qunari,” he corrected. “And it’s brilliant. Though for the record I’d prefer if that move was into my room.”

Bull’s lips curled beneath his finger. “Really?”

“Yes,” Dorian nodded, gasping when Bull’s arm wrapped around his waist pulling him flush against him.

Dorian held his breath as Bull’s head dipped, his lips already tingling in anticipation of being kissed when Bull paused. “You sure about this, Dorian? I’m not sure I could survive losing you again.”

Dorian melted, his heart nearly beating out of his chest at the vulnerability he saw in Bull’s eye. Swallowing hard, he admitted, “I thought a part of me died that day in the fortress. Turns out it was just hibernating, waiting for you to come back into my life.”

Bull’s entire face lit up as he smiled. “So you’re saying I’m Wintersend? Or would it be Summerday?”

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian muttered, shoving at Bull’s chest. _Leave it to him to ruin the moment. I should scorch his…_

Bull’s deep rumbling laugh broke Dorian from his thoughts. “No scorching my horns.”

“Give me one good reason not to.”

Bull dipped his head, his cheek rubbing against Dorian’s as he whispered in his ear, “Because you like to grab hold of them when I fuck you too much.”

A jolt of heat went through Dorian. _Still, he had ruined the moment._ “I don’t remember that,” he said petulantly.

Bull chuckled and nipped Dorian’s earlobe. “Liar.”

Dorian snorted. 

Bull kissed the curve of his jaw. “I guess I’ll have to remind you then.”

“I don’t know that I’m in the mood,” Dorian argued, earning him another chuckle and a nip to his chin.

“Is that so?” Bull purred, moving up until his lips were almost touching Dorian’s. “So does that mean you don’t want a kiss?”

Dorian growled and surged up, claiming Bull’s lips in a kiss that started out hard and bruising only to settle into sweet reacquaintance as Bull insisted on taking his time, licking into Dorian’s mouth and relearning every part of it. They were both panting when they broke for breath, Bull’s arms wrapped fully around Dorian, his hand splayed on his back. 

His breath hot against Dorian’s ear, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Kadan. So sorry.”

Dorian’s breath caught, he body going tense for a moment before relaxing. “You are forgiven…Amatus.”


End file.
